


Wanting

by Kayim



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Blood, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-15
Updated: 2011-05-15
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/pseuds/Kayim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk has been infected on an alien world and now needs to drink blood to survive.  Luckily, his crew are willing to continue following him as their Captain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanting

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Vampire Weekend Challenge at [the Jim & Bones Community](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com).
> 
> Thanks, as always to Siluria. Extra thanks this time to Caro. xx

"James T. Kirk. You have proven that your affliction has no detrimental influence on the continuation of your ongoing mission or on the day-to-day running of your ship. In addition, you have provided intriguing evidence that your newfound abilities may, in fact, provide Starfleet with an added advantage in any future disputes. As such, this review board has decided that you may remain in command of the Enterprise, until such time as a cure is discovered, in which case the board will review the decision."

Jim smiled, his vampire fangs obvious, and fired off a perfect salute. He had, of course, already known what the review board had decided, thanks to his enhanced hearing allowing him a "sneak peak" into the meeting room, but it was still a relief to hear it said openly.

He had fought for weeks against the prejudice that swept through Starfleet, desperately clinging to the argument that he would never, EVER, allow something to happen to his crew, especially not at his own hands. Or teeth, as was the case here.

After that first time, which both parties had sworn never to mention again, he had never fed directly from a living person. He had tried the artificial blood that McCoy procured for him, but it was like drinking alcohol free beer. It had left him feeling so ravenous that he actually had himself locked in the brig until someone could source some real blood.

According to McCoy, the crew had all volunteered to give blood, and sickbay had been filled with enough donations that Jim could feast for weeks. Jim knew he could never repay his crew for their understanding and support, but he could work towards paying off that debt by getting them out of dry-dock and back out on another mission as quickly as possible.

Stepping out of the room, Jim saw McCoy pacing up and down, hands clasped behind his back. Despite being off duty, he still wore his uniform, albeit slightly less rumpled than it usually was on board the Enterprise. Shaking his head, he was muttering under his breath, quietly enough so no one without vampiric hearing could possibly have made out his words, but to Jim it was as clear as a bell.

"Damn ridiculous review board. Ain't got a clue what's going on. Wouldn't know a decent Captain if they..."

"Bones! That's no way to talk about Admiral Jameson."

McCoy spun around at the sound of Jim's voice. Another advantage, Jim thought to himself. Being able to sneak up on people.

"Brat. What did they say?"

Jim smiled, flashing his deadly new canines. "You mean, 'what did they say, Captain?' I believe."

Bones stepped forward and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Best news I've heard all week. Deserves a drink to celebrate, I reckon."

Jim inhaled, relishing the unmistakable scent of blood emanating from flushed skin. He allowed himself a single moment to imagine what it would feel like to sink his teeth into the soft flesh at Bones' throat. He wondered if, somehow, the honeyed accent would translate into a sweeter taste.

"Jim?"

Tearing his gaze away from the pulse point throbbing in Bones' neck, Jim lowered his head, unable to look directly at his friend. "Sorry, Bones," he apologised. "It's been a long day..."

"And you haven't eaten since breakfast," Bones concluded. He tugged his undershirt higher up his neck but didn't back away. "You need to start taking better care of yourself. You know how serious the consequences could be."

The thought of losing control and attacking one of his crew sobered Jim. His crew had been amazing, not treating him any differently since the attack and his change. Sure, he was ten times stronger than any of them, even Spock, and could kill any of them in mere seconds, possibly excluding Spock, but he was still the same Captain that they had sworn to follow. And he swore never to abuse that loyalty.

"Let's go eat," he said, stepping away from the delicious temptation in front of him and tried not to notice Bones shudder slightly at his words.

*

"Set a course for the planet, please Mr Chekov. And let's get out of here, Mr Sulu."

Both men fired off a quick "Aye Sir" before their hands began darting across terminals, ready to get the Enterprise as far from Starfleet headquarters as possible. The three weeks that they had been planet-bound had been more than enough for the whole crew. Due to their Captain's affliction, they had all been confined to the medical building until the barrage of tests had confirmed the rest of them were unaffected. Although officially allowed unlimited freedom after that, the entire crew had opted to stay on site.

Jim gazed around the bridge, listening for the familiar sounds of his ship and watched as his crew continued as though the events of the past few weeks had never even occurred.

"Chapel to the Captain." The voice of McCoy's head nurse came over the comm speaker.

"Is everything alright, Nurse?"

She hesitated, just for a split second, but it was enough to cause the hairs on the back of Jim's neck to stand up.

"You need to come down here, Captain," she said, her voice terse. "It's Doctor McCoy."

Without wasting time on responding, Jim ran for the turbo-lift.

The turbo-lift moved at a painfully slow pace, allowing Jim enough time to imagine the worst possible scenarios. Had he somehow passed on this curse to Bones? Was he contagious? Would everyone on board be affected sooner or later? He was about ready to turn the ship around and get himself locked up by Starfleet when the doors slid open.

He sped down the corridor, swerving at the last moment to avoid barrelling into a young ensign who stared at him wide-eyed, arriving in sickbay only moments after he had heard the message. He hesitated before he stepped in, grateful that he had fed less than an hour earlier. To most people, the antiseptic smell of the sickbay was all encompassing, but he could barely smell it over the enticing scent of blood that seemed to be soaked into every corner of the room. He took a deep breath, allowing himself a second to acclimate himself.

McCoy was laying on one of the biobeds looking pale and drawn. His heartbeat was still strong – Jim could hear it beating, as well as being able to see it on the monitor – but it was running fast and his chest was rising and falling more rapidly than it should have been. He looked exhausted, as though the life had literally been drawn from him.

Sucked from him.

"Shit, Bones. What did I do?"

McCoy huffed and tried to sit up. Nurse Chapel walked up to him demurely and pushed him back down onto the bed, eliciting a glare from him, even as he looked up at Jim. "Damned egotistical kid. Not everything's your fault, you know."

With lightning fast reflexes, Jim grabbed the medical scanner from Nurse Chapel's hand before she even had a chance to tell him the result, and read the display for himself.

"Post-hemorrhagic anaemia?" he asked. He wasn't a doctor, but he understood the diagnosis enough to know that McCoy's anaemia was caused by massive blood loss. The truth began to dawn on him. "What the hell have you been doing?"

With a pained grin, McCoy shrugged. "Only what needed to be done." He turned to the nurse. "Christine, will you give us a few minutes."

When they were alone, Jim sat himself on the edge of the bed. He looked at his friend laying in front of him, struggling to catch his breath. "Why?"

"Because you needed it. And I wanted to make sure you had enough."

"You idiot. I have more blood than I need. Why didn't you, I don't know, stop maybe? How is it that you can tell when I'm doing some irreparable damage to myself, but you can't see it in yourself?"

Jim heard McCoy's heartbeat speed up. "I couldn't stop," he confessed, his voice thick and heavy. "I didn't want to."

He was a Captain, not an idiot, and Jim knew what was happening. He'd read enough stories as a kid that he understood a vampiric thrall. He knew about it in the back of his mind, but assumed that without actively trying to enthral someone, he wouldn't be able to. He thought back to the amount of time he'd spent trying to attract McCoy's attention before this had happened. His almost desperate attempts to make the Doctor notice him as something more than just his Captain. Hell, he'd all but flung himself at him when they were back at the Academy. If he'd been subconsciously doing the same thing since he'd been changed...

"Oh, God, Bones. I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

Jim's eyes widened. McCoy had no idea that he'd been enthralled. All he knew was that he wanted to please Jim, to do good things for him. For Jim to take advantage of this now would be tantamount to abuse. No way. Never.

"You didn't do this." McCoy sat up in bed, struggling to catch his breath. "I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong."

Jim shook his head. "It's my fault. I did this to you."

"You really are ridiculous. You know that? You've not hypnotised me or whatever it is you think you've done. You've not got me under some crazy vampire trance. I'm under a goddamn spell, alright. The damned James T. Kirk spell. I have been for years. It has nothing to do with... this," he waved his arms vaguely at Jim. "It's you, you naive, oblivious kid. I wanted you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted."

The effort of his tirade seemed to exhaust him, and he slumped back down on the bed, eyes closed. Jim listened as McCoy's heartbeat and his breathing slowed, until it was obvious that the man had fallen asleep.

A thousand thoughts careened through Jim's mind as he tried desperately to process what McCoy had just said. _How fucking typical_ , he thought. _There's finally a chance for us, and I'm stuck like this._

"He's getting closer to finding a cure." Jim hadn't heard Nurse Chapel come back into the room, but she was standing there next to him, her eyes flicking between the two men. "That's one of the things that's caused him to finally collapse. He's been working 20 hour shifts on it."

"What can I do to help?"

"I don't know."

*

All Jim could do was stay away from Bones and sickbay. He forced himself to cut back on the amount of blood he was drinking in order to make the supply he had last longer, but he could tell when a supply had been provided by someone else. He found himself disappointed with any but that which had the unmistakable sweetness he had come to associate with Bones.

He wasn't willing to risk McCoy's life anymore and wouldn't allow himself to drink his blood anymore, so he'd instructed Nurse Chapel to keep an eye on the Doctor, preventing him from donating. He'd not stayed around to listen to those arguments, but he was willing to place money on the nurse winning that battle.

The new feeding arrangements were having some side effects that were becoming more challenging to control. He found himself losing his temper more often, usually with Spock or Sulu, imagining himself slamming them into a bulkhead or beating them to a pulp with his bare fists. Each time Uhura smiled at him, her dark eyes filled with concern and sympathy (and perhaps a little pity), he fought against the urge to sink his teeth into her throat and feed until she was completely drained.

He needed more blood. And it had to be from Bones. It felt like there was something in his blood – the same thing that provided the sweetness, perhaps – that sated him more than any other did.

They hadn't been in the same room in almost a week, not since McCoy's confession, speaking only by comm and only when absolutely necessary. Nurse Chapel had kept him updated on the situation and he knew that his CMO was back at work now, his haemoglobin levels back where they should be. So when Scotty not-so-politely informed him that he was becoming a grouch who needed to get himself laid, Jim decided it was time to resolve the tension.

"Doctor McCoy. Can I see you in my ready room?"

"On my way Captain."

Jim heard the whispers around the bridge, remembering that there was very little that happened on board a starship that wasn't common knowledge, and headed into the small room that he only ever used for berating crew members.

He paced up and down the room, his hearing focused for the sound of the turbo-lift door on the bridge opening, trying to control his hunger. Too late, he realised he should have fed before calling McCoy to him.

The turbo-lift door swooshed open and he heard McCoy walking towards the room.

"Do you not realise how much work I have to do? I don't have time to come running every time you..."

"Bones. Shut up," Jim growled, cutting off the forced complaint. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and the addictive scent of McCoy's blood filled his senses. He felt light-headed, as though the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, and stumbled backwards until he found the edge of the desk to cling to. He opened his eyes and saw McCoy's wide-eyed expression.

"Jesus, Jim. How long has it been since you fed?"

Jim shook his head. "A couple of days," he admitted. "I wanted to make the supply last."

McCoy rolled up his sleeve and stepped closer. "I don't have time to get you a blood bag. But you need to feed otherwise you're going to get dangerous." He held out his arm to Jim.

"No. Not like this."

"You need blood. I have plenty. Take what you need."

Jim tried to shake his head, but he was transfixed by the sight of the pulse point beating in McCoy's wrist. He could see the blue veins, filled with blood criss-crossing beneath the soft pale skin.

"Drink."

"I might kill you." It was Jim's worst nightmare. What if he couldn't stop? What if he completely drained him?

"You won't. I trust you."

The temptation too great, Jim took the offer. He gripped McCoy's hand in one of his own, the other encircling McCoy's forearm. Their eyes locked together as Jim bared his teeth and slowly brought them down onto the waiting flesh.

McCoy gasped as the razor sharp teeth penetrated his skin, but he didn't flinch. As the first drops of blood fell, they both closed their eyes. Jim relished the difference between the days-old blood that he usually drank, and this body-warmed elixir. He sucked, filling his mouth with the warmth, feeling the heat as it flowed down the back of his throat. The blood pulsed in time to McCoy's heartbeat, which sped up as Jim fed.

He could have drunk forever.

"Enough." McCoy's voice held a slight tremble. "Jim. Enough."

Reluctantly, Jim pulled his mouth away from McCoy's wrist. The puncture wounds began to heal almost as soon as he retreated, and he licked at the remnants of blood on the skin.

McCoy shuddered.

"Are you okay?" Jim hadn't expected it to feel as powerful as it had, and he had struggled to withdraw, but when he looked up at McCoy's face, he knew he had released him just in time. McCoy was pale again, not as bad as he had been in sickbay, but paler than he should have been. But there was a look in his eyes that Jim had never seen before. Not in Bones, that is. Lust.

"That was..." his voice trailed off as if unable to finish the sentence.

"Amazing." Jim finished for him.

With a nod, McCoy agreed. "I could feel you," he tried to explain. "I could feel my blood pouring into you. Feeding you. Never expected that."

"Me neither."

Suddenly, McCoy's knees seemed to give way underneath him and Jim's vampire reflexes were the only thing that stopped him from hitting the floor.

With his uncontrollable hunger temporarily sated, and the man he was quickly becoming addicted to in his arms, Jim risked planting a kiss on McCoy's throat that had taunted him so much only a few days earlier.

"Mmmmmm," was the only response from the Doctor. "We need to try that again."

"We will," Jim promised, sliding them both gently to the floor. "We will."


End file.
